The Memoirs of Frigga
by hannah0faith
Summary: The up-close and personal tale of Frigga raising Loki and Thor, to meeting Odin as a young girl, to giving her life for her son's true love.
1. Chapter 1

"He did it again, he told me to go away."

A small, wet-eyed child sat in the lap of Frigga, her strong arms wrapped tightly around him. She kissed his long black hair, and said softly,

"Thor is only growing older, my son. He is finding friends, deciding what to do. He still loves you. He is still your brother."

Her motherly words always put little Loki's mind at perfect ease. He snuggled in tighter, forgetting the world in the sweet smell of his mother, Queen of Asgard. As the sad boy drifted to sleep, Frigga found herself in her own, perilous thoughts.

She worried about Odin, the prejudice, cruel father who only saw strength as a virtue. How she wished he would see greatness in Loki's stunning magic, wit, and love. She looked into the peaceful, pale face of the child in her arms and could only see destiny, power, and such sweetness that was so vulnerable.

"_My child,_" she whispered into his ear, "_You are forever mine, and none shall hurt you._"


	2. Chapter 2

"Loki, you must listen to your father."

Young, spry, and rebellious stood the teenage Loki, pacing angrily across the room. His green eyes were alit, his

"He does not understand, my dear mother. He doesn't listen to me," he argued, his deep tone shining through his words. He then widened his eyes in pleading, holding out his large, thin hands to Frigga. "My magic, mother, is powerful. I can do so many things, but he won't let me!" He then clenched his outspread hands and shouted in frustration.

Frigga stood and came gracefully to him, her golden dress flowing, her youngness still untapped. Loki looked into his mother's eyes with the same hope and sadness as he did when he was a fledgling. She lifted his chin, and his face grew ten years younger.

"My child," she spoke sweetly, "He doesn't understand, but you must understand, that your father is hard man. Magicians are but toilers to him, he cannot see you as he wants you to be when you perform your glorious talents. That is why he forbade it."

"I know, I know…" Loki whipped away from her, his green cape in a flurry, "I am not a king to him. I am just a magician. A worthless magician!" He threw a ball of wind at the wall, causing the room to tremble, and Frigga struggled for balance.

"Loki, do not let those who mind you matter so much," she spoke wisely, "You are worth the world to me. You worth a million kings."

"Yet am I not worthy of a father?" These words he directed not to Frigga, but to himself. She could see him questioning his own existence in the blackness of eyes.

"Be assured that existence is unjust," she tried to ease his pain, his rejection. But she felt helpless.

Loki smoothed back his ebony hair, thinking intently. He gave his mother one last look before he exited in a fit of pique.

Frigga was left hopeless, only thinking of Odin. How could he be so thoughtless? She loved Odin, but she hated the king he had become.

In mere minutes, Odin entered the bedroom, picking at his brown beard, which grew quickly gray at the roots. He didn't say a word, but shed his armor, washed his face in the basin, and sat across from Frigga.

"My queen, I hope you are not-"

"Stop," she interjected quickly, giving him the stare of a Queen whom all her years of wisdom had shown her greater things. "You are a father to only one of your sons. How you live loving half your own is beyond my knowledge."

"I simply ordered Loki to stop doing his foolish tricks in courtyard," he gave an encouraging smile, "It was harsh love, Frigga, you understand that?"

"It was for yourself, not for Loki," she replied sternly, "You care more about your own image than your son's livelihood."

"Maybe I do, I am the King of Asgard!"

"_He is your son!_" Frigga stated so still, that the words shook Odin's chest.

"He is not our son."

"Blood is nothing, you wretch. I raised him as my own child and I expected you to do the same. Did you bring in a foreign child to neglect him and betray him his father and family? If so, he would be all the better dying at that battle."

There were no more words that night. Odin had simply strolled into bed after Frigga poured out her heart and soul to her husband. Frigga stripped her dress as a Queen, and went to bed a mother.


	3. Chapter 3

Frigga, sixteen, stood at her door, watching the outside world. It was alit with life; the people were dancing down the streets. Today Odin would be crowned full Heir to the throne. She had never looked at Odin as the other girls did. He was prejudice, too-thickly jawed, and over-rated.

She was wearing her best red gown that fell just above her ankles. Her height always made her a head above the other girls.

Her hair was braided up small blue flowers with her unruly blonde curls falling over her sparkling blue eyes. Not the loveliest girl in Asgard, but the most unique.

"I can read your thoughts, my daughter, when you look out at the streets with those mischievous eyes of yours," said her Mother.

Her mother, Jaki, was shorter than Frigga, and had hair black as ebony that fell to below her waist. Jaki was a quiet, timid woman that Frigga never respected nor loved. Her chin was always at her neck, her eyes always on the floor.

Frigga thrust out a hip and strutted around the room discontented, "Oh can you, mother? Tell me then; what will I do to disappoint you tonight? Smile? Dance? Eat?"

"You mock me," Jaki pulled her hair to her chest and fingered through it, "You must know that I only care for your wellbeing?"

"We're poor, mother," she said tiredly resting her back against the open door, "Our wellbeing is already taut with strife. I long for release. Just as you do every night at the pub." She winked at her awestruck mother and finally left the step of their simpleton house.

Frigga left Jaki behind, every night temporarily, but soon permanently.

Frigga sauntered down the streets following the rush of people, she never noticed the eyes that followed her swaying hips. She was headstrong, and she could part a crowd if she tried.

"Frigga, you floozy," shouted Marianna, from across the walkway, she giggled and ran over to her. "That dress has a low back, don't you think?" she laughed, wrapping her arm around the waist of her best friend.

"Does it?" Frigga smirked and pretend to check over her shoulder, "I never saw it."

"Of course you didn't," Marianna scoffed, giving the boys dirty glares as they watched them stroll. "Anyways, how much do you have? If we scrounge up enough we might be able to buy something."

"Two coins, you?" Frigga pulled out the money from the pocket in her belt and jiggled them in her hand.

"Three, that's quite enough," Marianna sighed.

Marianna and Frigga had been friends since a young age, but only because they were both at the bottom of the ranks, not because they liked each other. They held on because they had no one else.

Marianna, though older than Frigga, wasn't as mature. She still wore a high collared dress that covered her collar bone and ankles. Her mousy brown hair fell freely and wildly curly.

"There's the big man," said Frigga mockingly, staring at Odin, up on the stage. Marianna struggled to see above the crowd. "He must think he's so much better than us."

"Isn't he handsome?" Marianna revered.


End file.
